Part 1: Oblivion and Innocence
    My toes fell into the jungle of grass, enveloped in green. My hair tickled my ears as the wind pushed it’s way through the light air. The soft sounds of the birds chirping and the cascading river encircled me, creating a bubble of peace. My eyes soaked in the rich greens and browns, dipped in whites and pinks. If I were to touch every petal, every branch, every rock, the touch would be soft and smooth, everything glazed over in blurry brightness.
    Butterflies danced flower to flower, racing down the flowing river as it painted rock after rock. The beauty was simple yet powerful and even though it was just for a moment, I felt like I had the entire world. I felt like a king, and it felt really good to be something.
    My feet fell into the harsh glow of the streetlights onto the pavement in front of me, back into the shadows, and then into the light again. The car lights passing by looked like shooting stars. Drunken people tripped over their feet trying to find a taxi, homeless people wrapped themselves in the little they had as they shivered at the cold night ahead of them, and the many more to come. Teenagers danced around voices weaving in and out of linked arms. I was shuffling through the waxing and waning crowd in search of a motel. Neon signs and traffic lights followed me through the streets.
    I used the sticky pole to pull myself onto the bus. I wiped my hand down my dirty jeans as I nodded to the driver, handing him my pass. My eyes travelled to a young women, maybe 17, holding a sleeping baby. Her eyes looked to nowhere, lost and afraid. They then landed on a lady that looked so old she could forget her own name, and to a few tired workers sleeping on the seats like they were lying on a cloud. I walked to the back of the bus, the plastic rubber seat squeaked in protest as I sat. Over to my right I saw a girl, her headphones wrapped over her head and ears, her eyes trained on the book sitting in her lap. I didn’t mean to stare but the longer I looked at her, the more she became. I began to see swimming pools and airplanes. I saw quiet nights and rooftops. I saw starry skies and burning sunsets.
    I fell from the cool night into a warm muggy motel room where I laid on the rough sheets, staring at the stippled ceiling, the girl from the bus burned an image into my eyes, she was covered in constellations and comets.
    I rubbed my eyes to regain my vision and walked over to the small bathroom. I sat on the humid tiles and reached for a pack. I lit a cigarette and squinted in the harsh fluorescent light.
    The tiles were alternating black and white, making it hard to focus; they led to a pink shower tub with heavy curtains pushed to the side. The faucets were cheap gold and the mirror was starting to crack, the holes filling with dust.
    I was tired. I had been travelling for so long. I had simply been observing; watching, listening, feeling. In search of something unknown to me.
    I was traveling through time and space, covered in oblivion and innocence.
Part 2: Run For Those Hills
    The cracks in the pavement seemed to stare at me. They were washed over in the soft pink sunrise. I was always taught to look up and walk with purpose but that didn’t seem to apply here so I kept my eyes locked on the ground. I didn’t want to be with the people or movement so I pretended I wasn’t. Solitude was my bliss.
    My feet fell in front of me, guiding me without a single thought. They led me to an art gallery, where I found myself staring at a beautiful painting of hills and valleys. Flowers speckled the ground and trees rose up like giants. Birds floated through the clouds that hung in the sky. I wasn’t sure exactly how I got here but I’m glad I did. Each of the brush strokes showed me hope and peace, so I stayed for awhile.
    A broad shoulder roughly bumped me out of my trance, I glanced up and around at the people but it looked as if they were all smudged behind wet glass. I decided to leave, not interested in the other works of art because this one was the only thing my head could hold. And as I walked down the street I no longer saw building or cars but hills and valleys. Deep blues and greens and browns rained down over the stale grey of the buildings. Thick trees replaced streetlights and the bluebirds whistle overcame the crow’s squawk and the cars turned to stone and floated down a stream. So I ran towards the hills but I could never quite make it, so I settled for just enjoying the view of peace. My heart and feet ached so instead of walking, I drifted
    I drifted until I found a garden and from there I wandered through the city until I hopped on a bus and found the most intriguing girl. Then I lay on a motel bed until she burned my eyes. So I burned a cigarette on the bathroom floor and sat down next to someone who looked an awful lot like me.